The Silent Language of Grief
by Ms. Shapes
Summary: Leite Beckford is half insane, and quicker than a pistol shot. Locked away after her fathers death, shes been kept in seclusion for half a decade. Taking the chance a strange man creates, she escapes and follows on a whirlwind change of pace. With death, gold, and disease following her footsteps, did she gain her freedom or simply change her prison walls?
1. Brand of Madness

Peter Beckford, a plantation owner and slaver, was considered to be the wealthiest property owner in the entirety of Europe by the early 1700's. Cruel and prideful, and with an ego to match his enormous fortune, he also was in possession of a temper so foul most people made the intense effort to be very brief in his company. Unfortunately that wasn't possible for the two wives he took in his lifetime, and his children. Well, at least one of his children. Two strapping boys, the eldest his name sake, were his pride and joy and had never felt the sting of his anger. They took after their father in every way, and on a late evening of November in 1710, Peter Jr. sure his pride was being pricked jumped to arms in a gathering of lords, and that quick anger brought an easy and merciful end to Peter Beckford Sr. His funeral was well stocked with grieving snakes with open palms and watery eyes. Although well attended, Mr. Peter Beckford Sr. had one less handful of dirt placed at his grave then he should have, as leagues away, heading north east, a large man o' war carried the only child of the Beckford estate which wanted nothing to do with the man at all.

**1715**

**Cat Island, East of Cuba**

Two men hurried up the pathway that circled and ascended a large hill, light smiles and a lantern between them, lighting the tropical bushes and wooden spokes in the early morning hours.

Excited for the hours of drinking and fun that the entire plantation was humming about, it caused the men's feet to move a bit faster, to the large open area with a darling manor facing the small tropical bay it hovered over.

The manor, plain in a white paint, held over twenty windows with shutters for each, a large wrap around porch, a second story where a small widow's walk connected to the resident's master suite, and a large set of French doors set on both the front facing the shore and to the back where the two men strode towards. It was grand, and had cost an absolute fortune to construct and maintain.

It was a very pretty prison.

Two tired and aching soldiers slowly patrolled the perimeter of the manor, stopping at pre discussed points to peer at the shrubbery and gardens that took over the area. A gunman who should had been asleep in his bed many hours ago had given up and taken a seat in the middle of the rooftop of the manor turning his head lazily attempting to do the same job of keeping a vigilant watch. A fresh gunman was already scaling the large ladder placed against one side of the house to relieve him, just as the two smiling soldiers flagged down the two patrolling officers to do the same.

With quick pleasantries and sighs of relief, the three tired patrolmen trudged down the pathway, to reach a set of barracks a few hundred meters off as the watch began a new with the sunrise just a glimpse in the sky.

A set of eyes the color of the skies before a hurricane, the swirling mist that hovers over the water on cold nights, watched the guards switch with an exhausted and low burning anger.

There was little in the way of sanity when it came to living among soldiers, racists and slaves. The hypocrisy and bigotry that was constantly weaving within the words of men had lost their flavor, and their thinly veiled idiocy long ago. Tropical breezes and tall sugar cane fields soured very easily when the entirety of it was built off of the backs of stolen lives and the yelling of pompous liars.

Liete Beckford was a few notches off center mast, a few pints short of a barrel, and Liete Beckford was a little more than insanity and rage personified. A façade kept up only because of the servants employed by her brother kept her looking ladylike, but as any guard whom had the displeasure of seeing the youngest Beckford child knew, one look into her eyes gave nightmares for days.

With skin more akin to paper, a wealth of wavy light auburn hair, a small pert nose, high cheekbones and pouted red lips that seemed to be in perpetual repair from constant biting, Liete was beautiful and terrifying. All dressed up in finery, with nowhere but her makeshift prison to go, Liete was constantly pacing the manor at all hours, frantic, graceful, and watchful. Guards were careful not to look into the manor to often or for to long lest swirling eyes catch them and stare right into the very fabric of their souls.

Ghostlike, and volatile, she was kept in utter seclusion, on order of Peter Beckford Jr. on the pretense of keeping her existence a secret. No would need know of the great benefactor of the Beckford estate lest someone attempt to marry her and steal all the wealth out from under the eldest son. Beckford Sr. for all his love for his sons, did not want them to have any part in his empire. Beckford Estate was to be passed to whomever he had deemed worthy as his successor, given his wealth through marriage to his only daughter. Legally binding, and the ultimate chain around Liete's neck. She had simply been another piece of property to barter off, and now simply nothing more than a feral woman kept in a secluded cage.

Nestled on a small island plantation, it had been given its name by the very men who worked it, as the slaves whispered of superstitions, and fear mongering grew, and the ghost legend of the cat women took

Cat Island held Liete Beckford imprisoned by her own legend.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Liete peered over the railing of the widows walk, into the first bright orange rays of the morning that broke through the fog that had taken hold in the wee hours of the morning.

Her mind had long ago ceased to speak, even to her own self, and so with empty thoughts, she slowly lifted her lilth body onto the railing, her corset biting viciously into her hips but she gave no mind to it staring with eyes the size of tea saucers, her mouth slightly agape.

This was the one time in her day, where hope streamed from the horizon, a whispered promise of change, and life. The events following would strip her soul naked of it quickly, but for that first ray of sun, she had no mind for her misery.

Her hands gripped tightly to the rails, in two spots where paint had worn away long ago from the same abuse every new day. Searching the sea, Liete held her breath trying to hold the light within, trying to keep from falling back into darkness.

For how long she sat, as the sun ascended into the sky she couldn't fathom and in some act of mercy, or the fact that a celebration abounded between all the guards as they drank and were merry, no one came to drag her down, and force her to do any chores or tasks.

Hope and joy slowly crept into the cavities of her insanity, and as the sun shone brightly in its position of mid day, it was suddenly and quickly stamped out.

A brig, a familiar crest donning the front, slid into the bay area heading towards the dock of the Cat Island plantation, the masts and sails momentarily blocking the light as dread and anguish forced her hands to shake nearly sending her toppling over to the ground below.

For a moment she contemplated the action, as the happiness gave way to a cool trickling anger and hysteria. It would be easy, and because of the guards taking part in to much drink, no one was paying attention to stop her.

A thick smile spread across her lips and just as her fingertips loosened to send her gracefully falling towards the far earth, a glimpse of black caught her eye and made her pause with a tilt of her head.

A ship, a possible frigate, inched to the very edge of her bay prison and then stilled. Men the size of dots became busy pulling in the sails, and if she didn't have eyes that saw everything she would have missed the dot of flashing robes lunge and jump across rocks from the bow of the ship, to blend in with the large masses of shrubbery.

With a motion that had earned her the name of the plantation, she slid from her perch and arched against the rails slowly stepping as she watched her prey stalk from bush to bush getting closer to where a captain she had named Devil and two guards clumsily climbed from the brig into the plantations front arched walls.

As her prey moved closer to the Devil, he also moved closer to her, and as he did and she saw him move through shadows and blind spots, her sick smile returned.

She wasn't the only predator on the island now.


	2. Little Bird

**Author's Note**

Hello, and thank you for reading this new story of mine! I haven't written in quite some time, so please dont be shy and send me anything you might think! Anything at all, I promise I wont bite! Unfortunately there is no Kenway interaction in this chapter but i promise the next chapter and there on will be choked full of him! So stick around and give Liete a chance!

Thank you again, please comment, and enjoy!

- **gianna g.**

Liete licked her lips, as the phantom whisked through the buttonbush and azaleas mere scant feet away from the Devil and his guards. Excitement ran through her veins like a fine wine, and with it her eyelids flickered with the foreign emotion.

She felt as intoxicated as the men roaming the plantation as her heart and pulse quickened and danced with fever.

For the first time in five years, she felt her mind expand and yawn as if it were an animal waking from a long afternoon nap in the sun. Even if her phantom were to be discovered, she knew with absolutely certainty there was no putting the animal back to rest as long as her eyes were open.

All at once the manor seemed the shrink, and fall away, as her mind drifted down the hill, across the sugar cane fields and nestled next to her awakener. Her eyes trained from a child's age to pull words from lips, zeroed in on her familiar tormentor and let his words wash over her.

"What happened here, why such disarray?!" The Devil himself proclaimed, anger and disbelief thick and dripping off his voice as he stamped forward towards two large brutes and a stumbling guard, all whom looked sheepish to have been caught tossed on the job.

Bedford and Manning, his usually ever constant guards, hung back at the dock snickering to themselves.

"Bit of a do, that's all. Its Wilmington's birthday" The small guard managed to articulate as he took place by the captain's side as he began to tromp through on his way into the plantation. The two brutes attempted to stand straight as their eyes rolled with effort, sending a small giggle through Liete at the ridiculous misfortune of them all.

"And you saw fit to get pickled on duty?"

"It's no bother sir, we've everything sorted." The little guard had no idea how wrong he was as the cloaked phantom moved silently vaulting over the short stone wall, right into one of the smaller parcels of sugar cane land. Surrounding all of the persons in question were men and women with different degrees of dark skin, toiling and working the land.

They noticed right away as the man carefully picked his way to follow the captain. Those with weaker minds stumbled away, frantically mumbling while others with hard features and harder hearts, quieted them sensing the coming deaths to those whom deserved it.

Liete had no doubt as she took a few more steps to remain in view of the unfolding events, that this man she watched was little more than a reaper.

"Well soon see wont we, for you must double the watch this evening!" Liete raised one dark eyebrow, the nasty smile perking again. So the Devil had sensed familiars.

"Double, sir? Whatever for?" The guard was having trouble keeping up with the captain as his anger was mounting and making the captain take larger strides with each step. His course took him around two more large fields of sugar cane, the phantom following easily and stealthily running between them, until the captain came to a stop near a small shack, and the guard placed a hand against the wall to keep himself up.

"I believe I was followed here young man. By pirates if my eyes honor me, though the ship was uncommonly large for such rascals.. Certainly wasn't slavers though. Not a ship that size.. In any case double the watch and keep your damned eyes wide for anything suspicious!" Liete couldn't help the small pert laugh that escaped her lips, that was just as quickly lost on the wind. His eyes honoring him, the man had been blind to anything other than honor from the first moment Liete had watched him lock the doors to her bedroom.

The captain scoffed and left the piss drunk sot where he leaned against the shack and continued on the path dug into rows between the parcels of sugar cane. As he continued walking, he came closer to the two large watch towers, slave quarters, and warehouse where the provisions and plantations yields were stored.

His words though gave her pause as she glanced at the small mound that hid the phantom inside the sugar cane field. A pirate, how interesting. She'd listened to the guard tell tales of certain men, that rode the waves and took what they wanted. They were fierce murderers with no respect for any kind of law.

Seeing her phantom now, blatant and sure enough to try and sack a plantation by himself, as she was sure that was his purpose now hearing he was a pirate, she could believe every story.

For a moment the phantom dashed across the dug earth, and she hissed when a gunman from one of the towers jerked to stare into the buttonbush where the pirate was now crouched hidden away from all eyes, all eyes except hers that was.

After a few more moments the gunman relaxed and just as he did the captain looked in his directions and with a sigh of disgust bellowed angrily, "You up there, look alive man! You've got a job to do!"

"Apologies sir, I'll keep my eyes peeled!" As if to show how serious he was, the gunman widened his eyes in a caricature movement, which seemed to satisfy the captain as he renewed his walk bring him to the center of the fields and warehouse area.

A guard who was still on his feet literally by the grace of god, stumbled shamelessly against a small warning bell, a large bottle of rum still clutched in his hand, and once the captain took him in with his 'honorable' eyes, the fine breeding and controlled anger he had tried to hide, burst through as he rushed forward grabbing the bottle and shattering it against the earthen floor.

"For god's sake what the hell is going on here today? How do you suppose you'll be able to ring that alarm if your piss drunk and barely able to stand!?" Past the point of talking the man tried to form words and took his sweet time on the attempt.

"He wont." Liete answered him silently, and turned her attention to her phantom as the tip of his cloak broke the surface of the bush he inhabited. She couldn't see any definition of his face, nor make out anything about him. She simply made an educated guess as to his gender based on the way the body underneath the cloak moved and walked. Women, even working women, had gentler walks then men.

The phantom ducked past the still fuming captain to an azalea bush right next to the bell, as the captain clearly done with the bell ringer, continued on the path towards the front of the warehouse. Quicker than an osprey after prey, the man lunged up and with a quick and silently snap of a small blade that seemed to come from his hand, cut the rope that would be used to sound the alarm.

Not mere moments after the pirate was already moving after the captain jumping over another short stone wall and a wooden fence to settle nicely in a patch of shrubbery as the still rampaging captain paced in front of the warehouse. Turning her focus back onto the Devil, she cringed slightly at the tone that shrilled to the drunken stupor of all the others around.

"The key god dammit! Someone find me the key! Is there no one sober here?! Fetch me the warehouse key if you please!" As the captain roared he began to move along the pathway to the manor, groaning and yelling as he went, but she hardly paid him a moment's thought.

It was as if a switch had been turned in her phantom, and a silent observer suddenly became the hand of god, as he moved from bush to brush, attracting guards one by one, and slicing through them as if they were nothing more than bread. He scaled the building, a silent assassin, as he threw gunman over the side of the watch towers to fall to their deaths. Those not already dead were too drunk to even notice their number dwindling to nothing.

With a sick sense of happiness rushing through her, Liete nearly vaulted from her perch, aching to run to the center of chaos. She was positive this man, this Death would kill her as well, but as she watched all those who had been cruel to her die by his hand, she felt an almost giddy joy to see them sent to hell before her.

Liete had long suffered from insanity from the cruelty of others and now, now she reveled in it.

Just as she grabbed hold of the railing, be damned the guard nearby, she heard the Devil call from behind her, within her room sending ice into her overactive mind and heart.

"It seems I have some time until the imbeciles of this stretch of god forsaken land get back to me, drunk and run off with the key. Good thing you're still under tight watch, little bird." The voice that had minutes before been howling in anger, was slick with a purpose that sent bile right into Liete's throat. With a final squeeze to the railing, she turned slowly to find the Devil had already removed his triangle shaped hat, his scabbard and pistols thrown across her vanity.

His off white wig, was slight off center, showing greying dark hair underneath. His eyes the color of mud felt as if they physically touched her as they raked over the soft gray gown she'd been dressed in that very morning. A front tooth dark with plaque and decay was startling as he brought back cracked sea worn lips in a smile that spoke only of spine-chilling promises.

Glancing at the vanity, she felt her anger pique as the beautiful bottles of perfume, and small pots of paints were now strewn about and disheveled. Her mind, numb and cut off before had never taken notice to the foretelling view that had always shown whenever the captain graced her room.

It was what the Devil did, broke and mangled pretty things with nothing but a thought.

Yet, her mind was no longer numb, and her thoughts usually silent and dead, had one sure conclusion that flashed behind her eyes. A lore saying, from the slave woman who was forced to care for Liete had once muttered when she'd come in after one such visit of the Captain. As the small sun kissed woman ran a small rag against Liete's red bruised skin, Julle let a tear fall for her and cursed the men who knew but did nothing. With murder in her eyes, that Liete had after so long been unable to muster, she whispered to Liete, "I do not fear the Devil half so much as I fear those who fear him."

So his name had been from that moment, and Liete with her clear and precise thoughts sanded down in the hurricane of insanity in her mind, she didn't fear him, and that was the end of her reasoning.

"Little birds can fly away 'at steppa.." At her Jamaican slang, the captain curled his lip and leaned against her bed post reaching to the buckles of his chaucers, paying her no more attention than a flea as she slowly stepped back into her room from the balcony taking step by small step towards his cutlass and pistols.

"You speak, how quaint. It'll be all the more fun to hear you scream, for I've had a hard voyage." The Devil leaned down to pull his shinned leather boots from his feet, and as he righted himself he did so as a mere man as he stared down the dark double barrels of his own pistols.

"Agreed."

With an easy pull with her thumb and pointer finger, his muddy brown eyes were splayed against the far wall, as two large holes now took their place within the captain's head. His body sat rigid for a few moments, as if he was still alive in shock at his turn of fortune, before his dead muscles gave way and his body slumped to the floor.

Liete glanced down at her grey dress now splotched with a dark red hue in several places and the only thought that came to mind was that the color itself really would look lovely as a gown itself. A small door to the servant's quarters where Julle always remained blew open, and the small African woman stumbled out. Julle took one look at the scene and let out a scream that seemed to stretch into oblivion.

After a few moments, Liete began to cackle, her laughter blending in and above the screams, her eyes wild with satisfaction.

**Disclaimer**

I do not own Assassin's Creed, any of its variations or its characters.

I do own Liete and her insanity, but that is all.


	3. Narry' A Soul

**Author's Note**

First off, I highly suggest listening to

From Eden by Hozier

while reading this chapter.

Please let me know how you, as the reader are feeling about this story, I'd really like some feedback!

Thank you, please comment, and enjoy!

After a few more moments, Liete couldn't abide by the screaming any longer and with a bark that burned her throat, she snapped at Julle.

"Quiet, I can hardly breathe with you screaming about." The fragile looking servant, falling well short of Liete's five foot eleven frame instantly hushed, her petite hands covering her mouth. Dark streaks practically bleed from her eyes and down her cheeks, but she was as silent as the grave.

Julle was graced with a quiet lovely demeanor, with pale almost green eyes and thick kinky curls that framed her small mouse like features. She'd been raised with Liete, her mother first caring for Liete before she did, and had been sent into exile with Liete when Beckford first passed to continue to care for her.

She'd tried to watch over Liete, powerless but ever watchful with sadness and defeat as prevalent in her own life as Liete's. The simple and awful difference between the two young women was that Julle had still been able to be with people and experience more than simple servitude. She saw the cruelty of slavery first hand but she also saw the beauty in her people and the hope that never seemed to waiver. It was her one sorrow that Liete never had anything more than her misery and her loneliness. In the way of the world, she felt richer than the white woman who had all the money and property to her name but nothing all at the same time. Although Liete had scared her, as she did everyone, she had never truly feared her in a sense understanding why the woman was as she was.

Julle feared Liete now.

She hardly recognized the woman who usually stood slumped and vacant to the one that stood as tall as a palm tree, with her eyes no longer a fog that sat idle but swirled and moved with life and vigor.

This woman, was the soul behind the legends of a pantheress women who came on dark nights where the water enveloped the lands and stole away the souls of those who had done wicked things to innocents. She was the boogeyman to the people, and at this moment, Julle believed it like never before.

After a full minute of Liete standing with both pistols still hanging in her firm grip as she looked at the wall opposite her where blood and other pieces of the captain were spread wide, Julle couldn't help but drop to her knees softly and whispered "Please don't hurt me ma'm, I'm ain't ganna tell no one, I promise.."

Liete moved so quickly it sent Julle jerking back to land right on her bottom as another cry of fright left her lips, the pale women growing an annoyed disbelief over her features as she waved one hand, the pistol clacking slightly as she moved.

"I wouldn't hurt you, you've done nothing but been kind. I've not lost all my wits to forget that." Liete's voice sounded foreign and she realized that over the past few years, she'd never spoken more than two or so words at a time. She'd never had the will to do much more than that.

As she opened her mouth to tell the woman to get herself up off the floor, a vague feeling came off, and chill touched the back of her neck, that sent Liete spinning and the pistols, which had no shots in them since having been discharged, held up to her eye level, pinned on her phantom whom had suddenly appeared on her balcony.

With her turn, Julle howled in horror and began to screech about a voodoo man as she kicked her legs scrambling back across the floor, to put herself fully behind Liete. Liete and the Reaper on the other hand didn't move a muscle save the man slowly lifting his hands to show he held nothing in them.

"Ho, lass, I'm unarmed and mean you no harm. There is no reason to be afraid." Liete let her head slowly tilt as the cool acceptance of Death washed over her speaking mind as she took in the man's rough low voice. It wasn't what she had expected from Death, but not all together unpleasant, and she liked the lilt of an accent which wasn't quite British.

She still couldn't see her killers face, and with a small movement, she put most of her weight on one foot, relaxing easily and said as calm and sweet as a mare in spring.

"I have no fear of you, you may kill me as you see fit. I do implore you, pirate, for some sense of honor in that you leave my maid whole and intact. I do mean in every sense of the word sir, with life and maidenhead. I to will not consent to be ravaged, so please do agree to these terms and with that, your murder of me can then conclude. You may have whatever you'd like from the home, and once you are done I'd implore you to burn it to ash. Do I have your word?"

The calm with which she spoke never faltered even when Julle gasped a simple no, and had reached for the hem of her dress to clutch onto Liete for some form of comfort. What did cause Mad Liete to again cock her head in interest is when Death threw back his head, his hood falling away as he gave a throaty laugh riddled with humor and disbelief.

"I don't intend on killing either of you this day, although you seem eager for that cause." Liete didn't like his laughter at her, it puzzled her and confused what she knew of this man. What further flustered her mind, was the face that had been uncovered as he laughed at her as if she had jested merrily with him.

His face was covered in several days' growth, with a scar that reached across the right side of his face from his jaw line to right underneath his eye. These attributes meshed well with his round chin, stubborn jaw line, and large nose that looked as if it had been broken and set wrong. With hair a golden wheat tied back against the nape of his neck, and blue eyes that danced with all mirth and no regrets, her phantom was roguish and handsome to say the least.

His robes although loose, showed definition, with a large solid waist and body that told of many days working on ships, climbing masts and practice with the very instruments that riddled his body. Standing tall enough for her to lift her chin slightly to look up at him, his entire demeanor seemed to swell and fit the doorway. Two holsters kept a set of smaller pistols peeking from behind his back, and two cutlasses crossed slightly behind his thighs, one on each hip. They were well maintained and freshly sharpened, even if they held traces of dried blood along their shafts.

All in all, this man was a murderer, had murdered, and was now claiming to be anything but.

"Say you?" Her voice had dropped a few octaves on its own, and if she had sense of mind, she might have blushed at the husky tone she had never heard leave her throat before. As it were, she simply continued to stand in her relaxed state, pistols aimed directly at his heart, and with a beginners luck, she held them as if she had been born into them.

The cool metal against her palm felt soothing to her fuddled thoughts and allowed her to once again, focus on the matter at hand. Slowly moving she pulled one hand back, from her still outstretched one with its gun focused on the pirate, to her chest where with little choice she made a very unladylike movement and stuffed the gun into the side of her chemise, the butt of it sticking out across her modest but still evident cleavage. With her hand now free, and the phantom's eyes slightly larger, Liete grasped Julle's hand easily and tugged at the shaking servants hand slowly lifting the lighter woman to her feet. With little more than shaking and small whimpers, the slave woman now on her feet, kept behind Liete for which Liete was slightly grateful. She'd have a much easier time aiding in the woman's escape now that she'd put herself very slowly between Death and the door.

_Hopefully, she won't see him slice my throat. _She thought coldly, as she then felt for the pistol once more, never taking her eyes off the fair haired man in front of her. He also stood calm with palms raised and facing her as a merry little smirk formed again as he gestured towards her with his chin, and then to the dead animal dressed as a man on the floor to her right.

"I am not the one holding a death mark to a chest, my lady. There is only one dead soul in this room, and I am not the cause of its departure. So whom is the real danger?" Liete felt the pricks of amusement, and took the chance to glance at the deceased captain, and with venom snarled low in her chest.

"There was narry' a soul in the body lying there." Silence and understanding stretched between Liete and the man, an intimate moment where someone saw the horrors behind her swirling eyes but didn't pity her circumstance. An understanding that pity didn't change a thing, because as he saw for himself, she handled her circumstance just fine without anyone's pity.

A deep baritone voice called from outside of the manor, spooking Liete in her momentary trance, as her fingers tightened and the empty chamber of the pistol clicked. Even though no bullet had lain in the chamber, her phantom had moved so quickly it would have missed him even if there had been to stand on top of her bed, crouched like a waiting tiger, watching her with astonished and still amused eyes.

"Kenway, we're done emptying the warehouse. Let's leave this place, the slaves speak of a spirit comein' here!" Julle, with the movement by both Liete and the pirate, had clamped her hand onto the taller woman's waist and had physically turned them both to now face the pirate, her shaking increased to an uncontrollable movement that had Liete's body trembling by association.

The pirate on the other hand seemed more at ease than ever, clearly deducing that both pistols had no shots within him, and to make the point that he had figured the ploy of the mad woman before him he again motioned towards her with his chin, not bothering to answer the summons of the man outside.

"You could have shot me."

"That was the general idea, yes."

That earned her another throaty full laugh, and with it the man easily jumped from his perch on Liete's four poster bed, to stand to his full height before her, both his hands no longer held in surrender, but now balled and resting against his hips, and with a wicked smile she was vaguely aware was almost always in waiting on his lips as he all but ended the tension within the room, at least between him and Liete.

"Now, let's drop the guns. I give my word I won't touch you or your lady, but I think we need to have ourselves a tawk' if only for the sake of curiosity." His accent drawled sweetly with his words, and with a single moment of hesitation Liete let both pistols she had still held at eye level drop with a loud clamor to the wood floor.

Julle flinched and began to pray underneath her breath, and Liete having never been more sure about something in her life, turned away from the man as she laid a hand on the servants shoulder, looking Julle square in the eye. Julle felt her body cease trembling without her telling it to do so, as the swirling silver within Liete's pupils which had only given her chills before now calmed her immensely.

"Come now Julle, we have his word. All is well." With the simple promise, Liete released the woman to stand quietly as she'd always done with her hands folded neatly in front of her stomach, the scarf that wrapped across her forehead returning to its normal position now that Julle no longer had her forehead crunched in fear. She was as calm as a pond with no breeze.

Liete again turned to face the pirate who looked more than a little interested in her actions, and gathered her dress within her palms and executed a perfectly royal curtsy.

"I wish to apologize for my rudeness, you came upon us at quite an embarrassing moment, do forgive me." Her complete remorseless actions and proper manners, although unseen, shook the very insides of the man in front of her.

Edward Kenway, was a killer, and driven for coin and little else, but this woman..

This woman, although his suspected reason for her purpose of killing the man was just, didn't seem to have all her marbles. Although hypocritical of him, considering he himself had slain over twenty score of men just minutes before, he couldn't fathom that this woman wasn't a stumbling, fumbling mess from her actions. It gave him pause and a faint thought that maybe he misjudged women for their sturdiness and resilience. He pushed that thought away as she pinned him with the eyes of a witch once again, and concluded that they were the source of his uneasiness.

They appeared to be moving, circling, as if looking into a well someone had just dropped a pence in, into the grey of a swirling fog that skimmed the water on full moons. Eerie and unsettling, he had the uncanny feeling that she could find every one of his secrets if he looked upon her to long.

Giving in to the anxious and panicked knot within his stomach, Edward raised a hand to run his fingers through his hair and forced himself to look away as he scoffed and stomped over to the walk, gripping the small white painted railing to glare down at his quarter master Adewale whom stood impatiently glancing as the crew of his ship The Jackdaw hauled their loot into the bowels of the ship in the distance.

Dark skinned, with scars that seemed to be finger nails scratches framed his dark and thoughtful eyes. With a scarf tied neatly on his head, his vest, holsters and cutlasses evident, and bare arms, Adewale looked like he'd kill you simply by looking at you.

"Ade, you might want to come up here." Moving to pull away, a second thought came forward and he looked down at Adewale and quipped. "Slowly, mind you."

Pulling away and turning, he cursed viciously as he jumped back after coming face to face with the noble woman nearly toppling over the edge of the balcony.

Liete moved closer to the pirate, just a few centimeters from his skin as she studied his features with keen detail to commit them to memory. His skin although worn from constant sun, and wind whipped, it appeared soft, and the small lines that were faint but there around the corners of his eyes, and lips, she knew he had only lived a life of merriment. Chasing foxes in holes, and shadows in the dark, this man was going to be as empty as she was one day.

Edward, although fear was ever present in the back off his mind, couldn't help as his body reacted to her nearness. He'd been chaste, we generally chase, since leaving his wife behind in search of a better life, but it felt as if he had no control as a gallon of fire pumped its way throughout his entire body centrally on his crotch that felt strained and aching as his eyes were transfixed on her red lips that although appeared chapped was one of the only points of color in her entire pale face.

Liete felt the sudden change of heat from the pirates body, with the one thought, and with the thought reacted as positively as she had before on killing her tormentor with no second thought on the matter. Her mind was content with each thought as it came, committing it to action with nothing more.

_I believe he wants me_, and she with little to no skill, applied her lips against his own, with a pressure that assured both of them that she may have had an idea of what being with a man entailed, she was innocent.

Edward couldn't breathe, as his arms came up to hold her hips firmly against his own, drowning sweetly in the softness of the woman's cold lips. Behind his closed eyelids, he saw lights and the river of his vitality flowing into his partner, as her lips warmed from his, and she became bolder and more forceful.

It was if she was pulling his very soul to mingle with her own the connection point her tongue that swept into his mouth, her teeth scrapping his bottom lip and as he drifted beneath the surface of life for a moment, Liete pulled herself from his grip, took a step away, touched her lips absent mindedly, and then nodded her face that returned to its indifferent features.

"That was interesting."

Edward couldn't speak, suddenly feeling weaker than a newborn babe using his arms to hold him up against the railing, as Adewale chose that moment in time to casually open the master suite door, his dark eyes taking in the entire surrounding within a moment.

"I don't think this is goanna end well braddah'"

Edward only nodded.

**Disclaimer**

I do not own Assassin's Creed, any of it variations or characters.

I do own Liete and her insanity, but that is all.


	4. Howling

**Author's Note**

First off, I highly recommend listening to

It Will Come Back by Hozier

for this chapter.

Then, Please review, I'd really like to know if anyone is liking this story? The silence is killing me!

And a pre warning, **the next chapter will have a naughty scene in the beginning**. I will put spacers between the naughty bits for those who do not care for them, so they can simply skip to the next spacer, and continue on with the story.

Thank you, comment, and enjoy!

With a reassurance that ships only passed through to Cat island every few months from both Liete and her quiet servant Julle, and with the few guards whom had managed to survive or surrendered locked away into the small cell that had been for unruly slaves, Edward decided to keep the Jackdaw anchored for the night.

Astonished to the immediate offer from the noble woman, he informed his crew that the manor resting at the top of the plantation hill was open for merriment and rest. He also informed the crew that if any of them treated the women of the house and plantation with anything other than respect, he'd have their ears hanging from the mast. They'd made a noise of complaint, and had continued to do so until the woman that had caused Edward to make the request had made her way to the dock with her quiet maid at her heel calmly walking up the ramp to board the Jackdaw.

Men whom had been everything but silent whenever their eyes were open, were suddenly at a loss for words, eyes wide as they watched the pale woman gracefully and slowly walk up the rickety plank that had been placed down to make it easier to enter and exit the ship.

It was as if all the world had frozen, as even the swift breeze took a moment from blowing to watch as the woman with skin the color of the Caribbean sand stood at the very tip of the board, just a jump from taking foot on the ship. With her pause, breaths throughout the ship and its dock caught and held as Liete's gaze swept across the men in front of her, silver eyes bewitching every single one. The early evening sun swept the grey gown she had yet to change with an orange hue, which Edward felt made her appear as if she was standing within flames.

As her view finally came to the helm, and Edward himself, Liete's lips moved from their pouted resting place to grace him with a smile that rivaled the sunset. Liete had been watchful the last few hours as her pirate directed his men, and went over the loot they'd taken from the plantations stores. She'd even seen when he had whispered and motioned to his quarter master, whom after their conference took almost half of the goods, and brought it to the slaves whom had been given the Captains ship to make their way to freedom.

The ones whom had opted to leave first, did so with thanks, happiness, blessings and smiles. Others, those who had opted to stay behind until the first had reached freedom, had also expressed their thanks and it had made Liete feel a sense of gratitude that had slowly seeped into her chest and nestled there with sweet whispers.

They rose in her chest, filling the cavity with a light sensation as if she were a tea kettle about to whistle, as she smiled at her phantom now, who for the killer he was looked sheepish.

In the corner of her eye, Liete noticed a few of the pirates who'd been released from her full gaze, make the sign of the cross on their own chest with shaking hands, and the nice sensation of satisfaction sidled closely inside her helping to fill the cracks made from the ever present anger that had suddenly dissipated leaving river beds and lakes dry throughout her soul.

_Good_, her mind spoke softly and smugly as Liete held her hand up her fingertips as light as a feather and spoke calmly and flat even though she hadn't felt as wonderful as this since she'd been given the new her father had died.

"I wanted to see your vessel, I'd only seen it from afar. It is definitely far more impressive up close."

Edward's vision blurred for a moment, going nearly cross eyed at the sight of her slightly bent elbow. He knew what a woman looked underneath all their dresses and petticoats, but they'd been working women, simple port calls. Even Caroline for all her innocence that had entranced him. All hard bodies, with rough hands and rougher attitudes. Now before him stood, a lady, noble and refined. The smell of sweet berries and cotton had radiated off of the woman as he'd moved about her chambers trying to forego any eye contact. With those thoughts, just seeing the intimate movement of flesh meeting flesh, made Edward feel like a school boy again.

She was above him in the scheme of the world, and still yet the slash of dark blood across her bodice reminded him that she may be a lady, but just as ruthless as any man, and before any of his men attempted to move forward to take her hand, Edward practically vaulted over the ships railing to stalk to where she stood on the edge of his ship.

If he'd been one for philosophy or simple thoughts of future or fate, he might have looked at the moment for more than it was, for as he took her outstretched hand to help her to the deck of The Jackdaw, her swirling eyes followed his every movement and ended once again looking him straight in the eyes and didn't quite mark that the fog had come to a standstill.

Instead of making her step onto the deck, Liete simply remained where she was, her finger tips warming from his rough hot hand, and returned the smile to her lips as she thought amused, _I don't even know his name, only what his man called him. Kenway_. She looked only at him now, knowing he was the only one not so steeped in fear at her presence as to move to help a lady.

"We have not been properly introduced, Master Kenway. My name is-" She took a soft pause and delighted in the slight hitch in the man's breath in anticipation. "Liete Rose Beckford."

The entire crew, even through their fear, perked at the mention of the name that was synonymous with wealth and riches. None made a noise still, as if breaking the silence cast would cost them their very lives.

Edward, unlike his crew didn't take in the impact of her name as her lips moved, his thoughts only consumed with the curve of her lips that looked like a piece of ribbon he'd seen in a little girls hair once that had shown so vibrantly as she skipped past that he'd been distracted enough to walk into a stall awning.

This experience didn't feel any different, as he never broke contact slowly leaning over to place his lips against her hand, as he had heard that was what noble men did upon greeting beautiful woman.

Just as before, Edward felt his soul rush to his mouth attempting to caress her own, aching to feel every inch of skin underneath them. The best he could muster was a throaty exasperated reply that sounded a little better than a growling dog.

"Edward. Captain Edward Kenway." Liete smiled a bit wider, and with a little merry laugh that carried out into the ocean suddenly pulled her hand away, and took a step back.

"Captain of a ship of men afraid to look a woman in her eyes, I'd be careful or you might have a stock of simps on your hands Master Kenway." A glimmer of mischief entered her eyes as they flowed once again, her smile turning into a smirk, and with nothing more turned quickly and motioned for an opened mouth Julle to go back from whence they came.

Julle wasn't the only one with her mouth slack, and it wasn't until Liete was already stepping foot on the path up to her hill that Edward Kenway caught up to her fury practically radiating off of him.

Squeaking in terror, Julle immediately pulled away from her mistress, having no mind to be killed over the pure idiocy of calling an entire ship of pirates impotent. As she took a few steps back, she saw the large black man whom seemed to be the pirate captain's right hand rushing towards them from whence they came and at that moment she seriously regretted not leaving with the first boat of freed slaves on their way to Nassau. Julle had a moment of her mistresses mind state and had refused politely, and chose to stay with the mad woman. Something had rushed through her very being, something that told her to stay, and being a god fearing woman, she listened when she was spoken to. Yet as Liete insulted the pirates, her madness slipping through like never before, Julle felt as if she signed her death warrant.

"Are you insane, woman?!" Unlike the pure male growl he'd given when coming forth with his name Edward's tone now was pure animal fight, clearly never taken such a scratch to his pride in front of so many before. He reached to Liete, not thinking over his actions in his anger, grabbing her upper arm in an attempt to turn her around to face him.

Fully intending to grab her other arm and shake some sense into Liete, Edward found himself blinking up at the darkening sky as he tried to take a breath that his lower stomach had taken its place in his lungs. Pain formed into a large ball like an anchor right in the pit of his stomach, as he tried to understand what happened. His attempts were foiled, as Liete moved into his field of vision, on the floor beside him her legs tucked underneath her dress, and her hands folded neatly on her lap.

If he'd been standing, he might have taken a step back because there was nothing sane left in the pupils of Liete's eyes. She wasn't human, he was positive as his body, even in pain, locked in stiff horror.

Liete felt her amusement pulse, pure giddiness wash over at her ability to flatten the man whom killed thousands with nothing more than a well place swing of her fist, and a strategically placed foot. Yes, Liete was going to enjoy this new life that was upon her.

"Oh sir, you might have thought that through a little more, aye' lad?" As she changed her speech to copy his own, Edward had no vocabulary, no words to respond with. He couldn't have recited a psalm had God himself asked it of him as her light flippant tone warped his mind, as silver cut him deep.

Glancing up as a scuffle of leather to her left sounded off, Liete flashed a grin at the dark man whom stopped dead in his track, a look of amusement and apprehension masking anything else he felt.

"Adewale-" Lifting her hand to make a grand sweeping gesture towards Julle and the vision she was sure her and his Captain made, Liete politely dismissed them both. "Can you please take Julle, and go off to supper. I will handle his majesty, he has only taken a tumble brought on by himself. Off now, you need not worry."

Although stopped in his tracks, Ade felt his duty to save his errant idiotic captain from the witch's grasps. He had never been one to ignore his people's words, and they whispered of this woman stealing souls from the very lips of those alive moments before, so with the warning he had felt panic when the headstrong white man had gone tearing after the Beckford woman.

Just before he could speak up in defense once he had found a semblance of courage, the tiny mouse that followed with light eyes moved with a shuffle and offered her palm to him. Looking at her Ade saw some sort of assurance, a spell of her own that had him offering his arm, and the mouse slipped her palm around his bicep motioning with her other hand silently towards a large sugar cane field where just over the heads of the stalks he could see a large bonfire being assembled.

In defiance, Ade looked to Edward one last time, and let the sisters presence at his side guide him away from the witch and the fool.

Edward wished he could silently call the ex-slave back, back to save him from the fog that seemed to invade his very mind as he was left in the darkening area, the very sun leaving him to fend for himself in the dark against the enigma sitting at his side.

Liete watched Adewale and Julle disappear through the sugar cane field patiently, and once she could no longer see either form, she looked down at the captain who had let the pricking of his pride dictate his decisions, something all the men in her life had suffered from.

"Well Captain Kenway, finally alone. While your recuperating let me start off by saying, It is really your fault for this situation. Weren't you taught never to grab a lady? Especially one you've seen place two very large holes in another's skull for attempting to do the same thing. Really, its common sense man."

As Liete chastised him in a frank tone of voice, Edward's pain subsided but his brain felt absolutely fried, and his body felt reminded him of an anvil with an odd sense of exhaustion. This, Liete, was in the easiest sense, insane. Jumping from emotion extremes, back and forth, a lady but a witch, mild mannered and polite, and extremely vicious when her mind had made its choice. She was absolutely ludicrous, but he wanted her.

That kiss had only stirred what he'd know the moment after he'd heard the pistol shots that had made the two remaining guards that circled her manor alert to a problem. Thankfully he'd already finished off the gunner on the roof, and was able to leap from his perch and eliminate them easily. Scaling the walls once again expecting to find some pompous slave driver and Beckford watchman that had must of seen him and sent a shot off in warning, he'd nearly fallen back to the earth below when he saw the woman standing as quiet as a painting, a dead body of her own doing slumped before him.

The man at her feet had looked as if he'd just gotten home, ready to bed his wife. Whether the woman was his or not made no matter any longer since his very brain was spread across the bed and walls, and thus unable to think or care on the subject. He'd moved his absolutely quietest, drinking in Liete's pale skin, and height, and when she'd turned on him weapons drawn, he knew.

Just knew she'd be playing a part somewhere in his story, even as almost everything about her scared the man inside him to death. She wasn't quite right, and laced within the fear was pure desire. She was the most beautiful, clean, and innocent woman he'd ever seen.

He wanted her, and being scared only made it more erotic as her eyes scored every part of his soul.

There was nothing he could hide from them, and with it made it all the more tempting to be by her side. Liete was not going to ask him for his past, she already knew, and he didn't need to know of hers.

Even if his scared mind couldn't move past the panic, his body sure could. It responded like a hungry dog over a slab of meat, How a poor man viewed a pound, how a man wanted a beautiful woman.

Even now, especially now, that they were as she commented finally alone, her hovering over him, as she watched him with eyes that did nothing but make him fill dizzier and aching.

Edward still didn't dare move afraid of her reaction and Liete whom waited for the man to collect his thoughts past the pain, place a cold palm on the uniform he wore a statement that required no answer lilting her prim and proper visage that she slipped in and out of.

"This isn't yours, it's not cut for you. Either that or you paid a terrible tailor." Edward mustered all the words his brain could remember and voiced them croaking since only moments before his bits had been lodged practically in his throat.

"Darlin' I'd really like to get up now."

"Then get up."

"We both know I can't."

Liete smiled her smile of merriment, this one causing one side of her mouth to quirk higher than the other her teeth barely visible between her lips, knowing perfectly well he spoke true. She knew the effect she had, and she especially knew now the effect on him.

Her palm slowly moved along the front of the vest and jacket set that weren't his, feeling the lather he'd strapped to protect from sword hits to his ribs and shoulders. Underneath her palm she felt his heart rate increase, but didn't bother to let that knowledge reach her eyes nor face.

Moving her hand a little lower, Liete left her palm to rest on his stomach that by the passing moments began to heave as his heart and breath quickened, so much so he began to make small huff that were audible in what felt like a world all their own.

The sun had gone from the sky, and the only thing that allowed them to continue to see each other was the light of the moon so full and large that it seemed to Edward that it hovered right over Liete's shoulder. The bonfire that was in full swing now was too far off, a dim marker in the distance, the chatter and song turned to whispers as the Caribbean swallowed their activity in the wide expanse.

Bathed in moonlight, Liete looked more like a ghost than ever, a spirit come to taunt and torture him, and with a moment of control over his own body, Edward lifted an arm of lead to bury it in the mass of hair pinned to the back of her head.

Humor, raw humor erupted in her facial expression, and it made Edward wonder if she wasn't a witch, giving him power over his own body, simply to see what he'd do with it.

Liete watched her phantom, feeling more powerful than ever to see Death bowing to her, and with that thought a shiver ran from the very nape of her neck straight down her spine as if lightning had hit her.

She knew she couldn't stay here, and she also knew she was already feeling the rush of poison, a sick rush of addiction, want and fever. Liete wasn't going back to being a lady, the decision had been made for her without her consent. This thought would have troubled her, had another not filled its place as easy as you please. Liete was free to do as she pleased, no guards, no seclusion.

Catching Edwards heaving chest with both her hands, Liete slipped her body closer to Edward Kenway's 'side, her chest hovering his own now, her face just as close as it had been earlier in the day.

"I have a proposition for you, a treaty of sorts. I can and will not stay here, I'd rather not do anything particularly nasty to you and your crew so I am willing to extend a metaphorical olive branch. I want passage to Nassau, on your ship. I want free reign to call on your whenever I need you."

"and what am I getting out of this, 'tis no deal for me yet." Edward could do nothing more than talk and savor the soft clean locks underneath his fingers as she practically forced him to keep eye contact with her. Liete's body leaning onto his own ignited his blood and with it an uncomfortable erection that pushed against his cotton breeches in a painful urgency that with no ability to really move, he could do nothing about.

Liete gave him the biggest smile she'd mustered yet, all her teeth small and shining as a halo seemed to appear around the outline of her curls and body lighting her the way an angel might appear to a mere human.

Liete was no angel, he silently reminded himself as he fell deeper into her magic, she was a trickster.

"In return, I am going to hear you howling from my bed. I want your breath as mine. You are going to need me, as will I to you."

Edward's eyes rolled back into his head, his mouth parting as an involuntary moan escaped his lips, a spike of adrenaline sending his body close to the edge from simple words. With his movement, he suddenly felt all ability return to his body, and with it he sat up quick claiming her lips to his for only a moment.

Any longer and he'd be lost again here on the dark earthen floor, and he would never want that between them.

The kiss gave him the jolt he needed as he shoved his body from the floor, and reached down to scoop Liete within his arms.

"I want you tonight, as sure as you're born. You know better, than to look at me like that, offering me a soul, I will come back. You'll hear me howling outside your door."

Liete laughed merrily, and Edward placed his forehead against her own and growled with a smirk of his own, practically running towards the darkened manor.

**Disclaimer**

I do not own Assassin's Creed, any of its variations or characters.

I do own Liete, and her insanity, and that is all.


End file.
